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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26597002">Use Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackberreh/pseuds/Blackberreh'>Blackberreh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Born in Flames [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(sort of), Consensual Somnophilia, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:14:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26597002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackberreh/pseuds/Blackberreh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the soft, gentle touch to Rodimus’ lower spinal strut that had him rousing, and he did so with a quiet grumble. He was aware then of the alert on his HUD beeping at him for attention, and he let out a long, miserable groan that hopefully conveyed just how disheartened he truly was. </p><p>The touch on his lower back smoothed, slow and gentle, to curve over his aft, and a familiar voice rumbled, “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Born in Flames [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>202</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Use Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I rise from my grave and give you this drabble thats semi-connected to Crave Excess and takes place further on down the line of Megatron's and Rodimus' relationship.</p><p>Just</p><p>Pure smut</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was the soft, gentle touch to Rodimus’ lower spinal strut that had him rousing, and he did so with a quiet grumble. He was aware then of the alert on his HUD beeping at him for attention, and he let out a long, miserable groan that hopefully conveyed just how disheartened he truly was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The touch on his lower back smoothed, slow and gentle, to curve over his aft, and a familiar voice rumbled, “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, Megs...” Rodimus mumbled, and he gratefully and promptly dismissed the alert. He didn’t even check on what it was - he trusted Megatron to judge the seriousness of the situation and act accordingly. He was getting better at doing that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand still remained on his aft. Something niggled in the back of Rodimus’ processor - a familiar memory file dredging up from his recharge fogged mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand on his aft squeezed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another grumble escaped the speedster, but he moved according to Megatron’s wishes - hiking his aft up and getting his knees underneath him. He could feel the soft rumble of Megatron’s approval vibrate through his frame, and Rodimus allowed himself to relax, and opened his panels. The cool air of the berthroom had him shivering, just a little. If he remembered right they didn’t properly clean before - his array was still a bit of a mess of lubricant; which was confirmed when he felt a large, thick finger stroke down the slit of his valve, and Megatron’s voice murmur, “Always so messy...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rodimus buried his face in his crossed arms, vents slow and heavy. Charge lingered in the joints and lines of his frame, ready to be coaxed and set his body alight. But this wasn’t about him - not yet, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was purely about being used for someone else’s enjoyment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Primus, but Rodimus loved being used like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still so loose.” Megatron remarked, a finger not hesitating to slide right in, the pad tracing the rim of nodes right around the entrance. “Good, I won’t have to waste time in preparing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as he said that, he still slipped in another finger. And then a third. Then, he began thrusting them, pushing them in deep. Testing the give, the stretch, even as the valve tried to clamp down on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a wonder he was capable of those fingers. Rodimus still thought about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a wonder he could take that spike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rodimus’ cooling fans clicked on, his vents picking up. Charge prickled across his protoform as each thrust brushed up against nodes, calipers greedily trying to pull them in deeper. The disappointed noise that escaped him when those fingers withdrew was muffled, thankfully - but he could hear Megatron’s chuckle, and a flash of humiliation burned within Rodimus’ chassis - making him all the hotter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he felt it. The hot, blunt head of Megatron’s spike, pressing against his stretched valve-lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rodimus felt his spark in his throat. He always did. It was suddenly all he could do not to turn and watch that enormous length disappear within him. The visual was always so - so -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron began to press forward, and Rodimus muffled his keen against his arms as his calipers were stretched wide to accommodate the massive spike. He sank in easily, going so deep Rodmis could swear he could feel him in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Megatron actually started moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The squelching noises of lubricant being drawn out with every thrust. The soft grunts, the heavy vents. The large servos, holding Rodimus’ hips, so gentle. Rodimus felt himself sinking down into a calm, heady space as his frame was used for another's pleasure, the motions slowly stoking the fires within him, unhurried, almost teasing. He allowed himself to drift in a haze of heat and pleasure, the sounds of their coupling muffled to his audials - all that mattered were the heavy, hot servos holding him up, and the spike filling him over and over and over and over -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A low, deep moan rang in his audials, and Megatron suddenly pressed in deep. A choked noise escaped Rodimus as he could feel a thick, liquid heat fill him - and he was suddenly all too aware of everything. The charge, crackling across his frame. The trembling of his limbs. Overload hovering on the very edges of his awareness, so close to toppling over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was drool on his arms. Gross.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large servo patted his quivering spoiler, a soft rumble of praise, and Megatron withdrew - leaving him so achingly empty Rodimus suddenly didn’t know what to do; he just needed him back, needed to be filled back up - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, it’s alright.” Megatron soothed, and something was worked gently back into his valve. It was thick, stretching him; not as much as Megatron’s spike, not as thick or as long, but it was something that he could clamp down on, and Rodimus let out a low whine. “There you go. Good boy. You did good, Rodimus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His large servos stroked up and down Rodimus’ sides, gently urging him to lay back down onto the berth, and Rodimus  did so without complaint, venting heavily. His array throbbed, there was a point below his abdominal plating that radiated heat, and Rodimus felt too sluggish to do anything about it. He didn’t want to do anything about it. He couldn’t anyway, not unless Megatron-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large servo cupped his cheek, drawing Rodimus’ attention. His optics flickered online, dim and unfocused, to see Megatron hovering over him. Lips curved. Optics bright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not to overload while I’m gone.” He said clearly. A thumb traced Rodimus’ lips, wiping away the oral lubricant. “You’re not to touch yourself. You are to remain here, and recharge. Can you do this for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rodimus hummed, a surge of eager happiness welling within him. Yeah. Yeah, he could do that. Not having to do anything. Easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The charge coursing through his frame was intense - but not urgent. Like this, he could easily just - sink back down into recharge, maybe. No issue at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s engine gave an approving purr. “Good boy. I’ll be back soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rodimus shivered under the praise, and Megatron withdrew. It was a loss, and sometimes Rodimus had to struggle not to protest that loss, but - he would be back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as always, Rodimus would welcome him back with open arms. Eagerly, with a warmth and happiness that he still couldn’t (wouldn’t) explain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a last, lingering look that had Rodimus’ spark throbbing within it’s casing, Megatron left, and Rodimus was alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The speedster curled onto his side. His thighs were sticky, slick with lubricant. His array still bared to the room. The heat within him was cooling, matching the temperature of his frame, and it was almost a loss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Rodimus drifted back into recharge.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lemme know if y'all enjoyed it :") Comments are super appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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